Louise E. Rule Author

Monday, 1 June 2015

I have been tagged by Paula Lofting in Meet my Character. There are seven questions to answer, so, here it goes... Paula's Meet My Character can be found here:

What is the name of your character? is he/she fictional or a historic person?

Right, now, my main character has changed back and forth between two protagonists. Both protagonists vied mischievously to play the lead. First one would be more dominant than the other, then vice versa. This was a new phenomenon to me, characters in my head competing with each other to play the lead. After several drafts, and some 'internal' arguments with my characters, the lead, as it were, became evident. Nychol Granger, who is a fictitious character, had the stronger background, and his character was more developed than that of his rival. So, at the moment, and it will probably stay that way, it is Nychol Granger.

When and where is the story set?

My story begins in January, 1286, in the environs of Stirling, Scotland, three months before Alexander III dies at Kinghorn, Fife, on 19th March, 1286.

What should we know about your main character?

Nychol Granger is 16 years old, and the eldest son of master mason, Donald Granger, and his wife, Alys. He has a younger brother, Simon, who is 14 years old, and a small sister, Catherine, (Ceit for short), who is just 4 years old. Nychol is expected to follow in his father's footsteps, and be a mason, but Nychol has other ideas. He wants adventure, and to that end, steals away in the night, to do just that, but it doesn't go as he plans.

What is the main conflict? What messes up his/her life?

Nychol is walking the 36 miles, or so, to Edinburgh, but on the way he is abducted by some soldiers, and that is when he finds that his adventure isn't what he had planned. Nychol's main conflict becomes evident when he is partnered with Gavin Kier, a 17 year old soldier, who has bluffed his way through his short life, after being orphaned at the age of 9. Gavin comes across as affable, and charismatic, which is his greatest weapon, and he uses it well. He has the knack of turning friend against friend, and making friends of foes. Anymore would be to lay down spoilers, sorry...

What is the personal goal of the character?

Nychol's story is still evolving, and his path is still very much a work in progress. His goals will change throughout the story, of that I am sure. His future, at the moment, is mapped out by the fact that he has been abducted by the soldiers, and he has resigned himself to his situation. His personal goal at this point is to stay alive, especially when Alexander III dies unexpectedly, and sends Scotland into turmoil.

Is there a working title for this novel, and can we read more about it?

The working title for my novel is, The Touching of Stones. I'm not sure it will keep this title, because as the work progresses, it becomes less relevant. This is because the novel that I had intended to write, changed direction, this was caused by how my characters grew, and their personalities took shape. You can read more about my WIP in the future, here on my blog.

When can we expect the book to be published?

How long is a piece of string? I am hoping to publish my novel by the end of 2015 or early 2016. It really all does depend on how well the work progresses, to be honest, my life, as it is at the moment, has a habit of getting in the way. It is my intention, however, to write every day through the summer months, which does not, unfortunately, happen at the moment. I see this book as being the first in a series, which I find a really exciting prospect.

Monday, 24 November 2014

Just a short blog, dear ones, as I don't want to dwell too long on my error.

Ok, I'm going to tell you about a big, big mistake that I made in republishing my book, Future Confronted

This occured because I had not read the instructions fully. Why? Well, because I was in a rush, that's why. I was adding a back chapter to my book, and didn't want it 'off-sale' for longer than necessary. Being a self-publishing newby, having had a company do it for me before, I felt all fingers and thumbs with the process. Be warned! Read all the instructions VERY carefully.

On the instructions for publishing the Kindle copy of the book to amazon, it says that page numbers aren't necessary, as the book's pages can be made larger or smaller depending on the size of the font chosen by the reader. OK, got that, then I went to upload the POD version of my book to CreateSpace, and, because I was rushing, I totally forgot to put page numbers in. Geeeez! Talk about a mammoth faux pas!

So, dear ones, I now have to take down my book, and enter the page numbers, and resubmit it up to CreateSpace. This means that the book will be off sale for a few days. I will be doing this sometime this week. The Kindle version, however, will still be for sale!

Lesson #1

Always, but always read the instructions, no matter how rushed you perceive yourself to be.

Lesson #2

Always, but always read the instructions, no matter how rushed you perceive yourself to be.

Lesson #3 - Yeah, you've got it, all of the above!

I can laugh at myself now, but initially I felt like crying, such a stupid, stupid mistake. On reflection, my son Rob, who my book Future Confronted is about, would have been sympathetic for a wee while, and then would have made me see the funny side of it. And with that in mind, I can smile, just, about an idiotic omission.

Sunday, 23 November 2014

This sounds like a confession, doesn't it? Well, it is, sort of. In this age of electronic communication, mobile phones, emails, instant messaging, Twitter, Facebook... well, you know.... there's Skype. I dipped my metaphorical toes into the metaphorical water. I didn't drown! It was fun! It was.... well... it felt like magic! I was talking to my laptop, and my friends were talking to theirs, and somehow, we all three managed to have a meeting, a discussion, and, most of all, a really good laugh!

Ever since I found that icon, "Skype", some months ago on my new laptop it filled me with interest and curiosity. I clicked onto it... Hmmm..., I clicked off. I Googled it, read all about it, and thought I understood it. But with whom would I Skype? Nah! I decided to forget about it. But every now and then I would click onto it, and just wonder....

Well, I wonder no longer. Last night I Skyped for the first time! I know dear ones! I had not one, but two people to Skype with. It didn't hurt, it was totally painless! I found myself smiling at my screen, we didn't have live pictures, just sound, but it felt like I imagined it must have felt the first time somebody used that wonderful invention, the telephone, or the first time they had listened to a phonograph record. It felt magical, to hear the voice of someone living over 4,000 miles away, and nine hours behind the UK, on my laptop, my laptop for goodness sake!. Often we have 'chatted' on Messenger, and on Facebook, and I had imagined what my far-away friend's voice was like, but when I heard her, all those miles away, well, I felt emotional. Now I can put a voice to the face, and that is really wonderful!

I know, I know, I know, I could have phoned my friend, but, Skype is just sitting there waiting to be fired up, and it is FREE... imagine, something that's free to use just sitting there on your laptop! There are services that you do have to pay for, click this link to find out more http://www.skype.com/en/ but for 'just Skyping' it's free.

Two of us live here in the UK, we have met on several occasions now, even been on a trip together. We live about 50 miles from each other, so nothing like the 4,000 miles plus for our other friend. So..... a week ago my friend and I met up in Chichester, West Sussex, to buy our tickets, and now we are going to visit our dear far-away friend next June, all the way to Anchorage, Alaska!

Well, who knew, eh? It is going to be a trip of a lifetime, we're going to splurge photos all over Facebook, selfies grinning out at you wherever you look... well..., maybe not, that would be a wee bit scary, but we will be Facebooking everyday!

Do you recognise us yet?

Aha! You've guessed!

So, dear ones, through the wonders of wireless technology, I have Facebooked, Twittered, or is it supposed to be Tweeted? (Images of birds on telephone wires chatting, comes to mind!) And now I've Skyped! No longer am I a Skype Virgin! (waggles eyebrows). Now I feel like an all-round-communicator. Oh yes, I forgot, I am also an author and I communicate

Tuesday, 18 November 2014

I am in the middle of writing my first historical fiction book, the working title of which is: The Touching of Stones.

Initially I saw it as a trilogy, though it may possibly turn into a saga, as I have an ongoing idea of where my story will go. and for this reason I feel it is important for me to visit the places that I am writing about. I also think that even if it wasn't my first foray into historical fiction, I would still need to visit the places that I will be writing about.

I visited Edinburgh in May to research St. Giles' Cathedral, Rosslyn Chapel, and John Knox House. I felt it was important to visit these places to obtain some idea of their history first hand, and to soak up the atmosphere too. In all of these places the history was, and is, palpable, and I wasn't disappointed either. The visit added much to my Work in Progress. Without the visit I don't think that I could have placed my characters securely within the story.

This begs the question: How important is it to visit the places that will be in your story?

I have read, on Facebook, that some authors include places in their novels that they have not visited. All their information having been gleaned from books, or the internet and still create the atmosphere that is needed. I am lucky inasmuch as I am able to visit Scotland, but if my novel had been set in Australia, or New Zealand, then I would be able to go, but find it a little difficult, I think. It would be better to rely on information gathered from books and DVDs, and the like, not to mention much cheaper!

Having said all that, taking a research trip gives the mind the opportunity to concentrate more fully on the writing process, I think. When I was in Edinburgh in May I wrote more freely, not being hindered by the normal run of the day. Plus being in the place in which you are writing helps enormously. Well, it certainly helped me, and I know that we are all different.

So, I went back again on 7th November. This time I stayed for a week. Four days in Stirling and three days in Edinburgh. It was a real boon. When I was in Stirling, I visited the castle, The Wallace Monument, Stirling Bridge, and The Robert the Bruce statue and visitor centre. The visitor centre was very helpful. They have a weapons handling room. This is where I really appreciated the weight of the mail, the coif, the helmet, the sword, all of it. It gave me a real sense of the power that the knights had, the stamina, and the weakness if pulled from their horse. Once on the ground, they were practically helpless because of the shear weight of that which they wore.

In Edinburgh I was lucky enough to come across some stone masons at St. Giles' Cathedral. They were engraving the name of the cathedral in the stone: St. Giles' Cathedral. There will always be controversy over whether St. Giles' is a Kirk or a Cathedral to the people of Scotland, In St. Giles' Parish Profile they refer to it as: St. Giles' Cathedral, The High Kirk of Edinburgh. The controversy continues. The stone masons had taken two years going through different procedures with the authorities in order to be able to engrave St. Giles' Cathedral into the stone in front of the main entrance. They had started the previous day sketching out the letters, measuring them, to get them equidistant to each other. On the day that I first came across them at around 13.30, they had been at work since 08.00 that day, and had already achieved the full work, but were doing finishing touches ready for the next day. This is when they painted the lettering a beautiful dark red, made from natural minerals mixed with a spirit. The idea was for the lettering to stand out from afar. At first I thought it a shame to paint them at all, but on reflection, I think I have to agree that it does look so much more stylish; it has a certain permanence.

As my WIP is fundamentally about a family of stone masons whose lives get caught up in the politics of the Scottish War of Independence, among other events through time, then I felt it most fortuitous to come across these wonderful people in the execution of their work. I visited them on two consecutive days to view how the work was coming along. As you can see by my pictures, for which I have their permission to show, their work is splendid in every detail. The weather was bitterly cold, a face-numbing cold, and they sat there cheerfully carrying out their work. Although I have had a continuing interest in stone masonry for some years, I learned a lot from them, which will be a great help in my writing.My visit to Stirling Castle, The Wallace Monument, and The Robert the Bruce Centre was extremely helpful, and I am really glad that I went to all three places. The castle was extraordinary, and I spent most of the day there. It was captivating, the architecture, the furniture, the tapestries.... marvellous. I had an audio-guide, so that I could just take my time in each part of the castle, and listen at my leisure, depending on where I was in the castle. I took many photos, thankfully these were not prohibited, as in The Writers' Museum, which I visited whilst in Edinburgh.

One of the guides

Beautifully crafted furniture

Replica wall tapestrieseach one taking longer than two years to complete

View of The Wallace Monument from Stirling Castle

A detail from The Wallace Monument - William Wallace

Robert the Bruce at theBannockburn Heritage CentreI knew it was large, but it is enormous!

For myself, and I can only talk of my own experiences, the visit to the Bannockburn Heritage Centre was one of the most important visits I made. An afternoon well spent.

Edinburgh Castle, missed the first time in May, was a totally different experience, being a working castle. I stayed there for about three hours, and tried to imagine how it was back in the day. Not much different to how it is now, I imagine. The history, as with Stirling Castle, is palpable. I sat on a bench, shut my eyes, and just listened. When I had managed to edit out all the nations that were wondering around, I imagined how it would have been. It is a formidable place, I also experienced the two minute silence for Armistice Day here. It started with a gun salute, and finished with a gun salute. The intervening two minutes silence was extraordinary.... there was a crow hopping around my feet pecking at crumbs, another came and squabbled for them, a fluttering of wings, cawing, and then silence. The second gun discharged, and the birds rose momentarily, and settled back to scavenging, and the hubbub of the people restarted, rising incrementally as each group resumed their tour.

Two hours later it was the One o'clock Gun. This time I was no more than 20 feet away, and when it went off, well, you can imagine, it was deafening. Difficult to know which was the louder though, the gun or the teenage girls screaming and laughing straight afterwards.

So, to answer my question at the top of this blog; How important is it to visit the places that will be in your story? I would have to answer yes, it's very important to visit those places, if it is at all possible.

All in all, my visit to Scotland was a complete success, what it has left me with, however, is writers' block. I have so much information which I am trying to put into some order, that my writerly mind has quite simply checked out, and my 'organising the information' mind has taken over. Very frustrating!

I've had many suggestions from fellow writers on Facebook, after I had asked how others cope with writers' block, and I am on my way to trying them one by one. I have no doubt that once the muse has recovered from her holiday, I will be off to the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries again, and, yes, I will most definitely be sometime, the muse willing!

Sunday, 9 November 2014

My grandfather was born in Sandy in Bedfordshire in 1891. When he married my grandmother, who came from Scotland, the people in his tiny village said that he was marrying a foreigner.

They set up home in rooms in London, and their family life began.

In 1914 The Great War started, and like all young men, grandfather enlisted to fight for his country. He joined The Highland Light Infantry, and became soldier 10527, just one among the many who set off to fight, all thinking it would be over by Christmas. The Great War, it was supposed to be the war to end all wars.

My grandfather was seriously injured on the battlefield, and left
for dead, after half of his face was blown away. It wasn’t until a soldier
saw him move slightly in the mud and the filth, that the alarm was raised.

He was sent home in a terrible state. He was in hospital for
months and months. They stitched him together as best as they could, but he no
longer looked like himself. Some time later, (sadly, I have nobody left to ask how long that was), he was put in the hands of the surgeon Archibald Mclindoe, who, during and after World War Two, was famous for coming up with innovative ways of helping burn victims. Well, he miraculously rebuilt grandfather's face. The right half of his lower jaw bone was rebuilt from part of his hip bone as this has a good blood
supply, then he underwent skin grafting, and using a photo of my grandfather,
they proceeded to make him look more like himself.

When my grandfather joined up to fight in France, he took
with him a blank notebook, which he turned into his diary of events. I am
amazed that he had the presence of mind to write in this diary on an almost
daily basis, not only write in it almost daily, but with a hand that was always
neat.

When I came across his diary, after my mother passed away, I
wept for almost the entire way through. Not just because it was his ‘War Diary’,
but because he was my grandfather, a brave man whom I had never had the good
fortune to know.

So, he survived that terrible war, battered, but alive. Life
turned back to normality, until one Saturday in 1946, when he was cycling home from watching is beloved
Chelsea football game. The last thing he had said to my mother was, “Can you
buy me a box of matches please lass?” They were the last words that she would
hear him speak. Hours later a policeman knocked at the door to give her some
devastating news. Her father, my grandfather, survivor of The Great War, had
been killed by a trolley bus. Killed outright. Dead. Gone. Truly, to survive so
much, and yet to be killed even so, could not be more tragic. He was 55 years
old. His wife, my grandmother, had been bedridden since having a stroke when
she was just 50. She too died when she was 55 years old, some three years after
grandfather.

Life is full of many twists and turns, but nobody knows how
or when they will die, just that they will die.

I am writing this, 100 years after the beginning of that
terrible war, to pay homage to my grandfather. To tell him that I am so proud
of him, that he did his ‘bit’ for King and Country. He survived, but not for
long, but he did survive.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young.

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;

They sit no more at familiar tables of home;

They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;

They sleep beyond England’s foam.

by Laurence Binyon

The last entry in my grandfather's diary is this:

PS - I had only been discharged from hospital for about twenty minutes, when a Lady told me in a bus, that my place was in France, not riding in buses!

Sunday, 21 September 2014

When I started writing my first book, Future Confronted, publishing it had not entered my head. All I knew was that I wanted to, no..., that I needed to write the story of my son Rob who died from a brain tumour when he was just 20 years old.

When I had eventually progressed to about three quarters of the way through, I was reading a post on Facebook where a friend was talking on a thread about KDP. I had never heard of this before, so I put in a comment to ask her what it was exactly. That is when I found out about the wonders of self publishing through amazon's Kindle Direct Publishing. Oh my word! This was going to be the way forward for me. I looked into the whys and wherefores, the hows and how nots, and continued reading as much as I could about it. Fired with a new enthusiasm, I carried on to finish my book.

Another Facebook friend, who was going through the publishing process for the first time, was helping me with all sorts of hints and tips. He is a very successful author now, I might add. Unfortunately I wasn't sufficiently confident to do it on my own. I chickened out, in fact. I went with a publisher that helps the likes of me, timorous and lacking confidence, to get their book up on all platforms. All went well for a wee while. Unfortunately after some months we had a parting of the ways, and this is when I had to bite the infamous self-publishing bullet! And what a hard bullet it is! But going it alone has been liberating. Now I really feel like an Indie Author! Well, I'm as independent as I'll ever be.

I decided to walk through the process like the proverbial tortoise, slow and steady... this way I gradually ticked off each instruction from the list. Do you know what? The further I progressed, the more confident I became. I uploaded my book, which now comes with added content, to the CreateSpacewebsite for the paperback version. Mission accomplished, or so I thought, because then I had to do the cover. Piece of cake.... NOT! I had no idea about the re-sizing, as my first edition was 5" x 7" and some 173 pages, and my new edition is 6" x 9" with 130 pages, so, not only larger, but with a narrower spine to the book. A big difference in the scheme of things. My cover designer, my dear friend Dave Slaney, re-sized it for me, and placed my B.R.A.G. Medallion on the cover too. I then uploaded it with great success. Huzzah!!!

Then I had to do the Kindle version, which I thought was going to be a diabolical faff, but was easy, so easy in fact that I couldn't believe it. This is because, when you have uploaded with CreateSpace, they send your file through to KDP for you and all you have to do is go through several steps, et voilà! Last night, (19.09.2014) at approximately 19:30, I finally uploaded the Kindle version, and within twelve hours it was there waiting for someone to purchase it.

The B.R.A.G. Medallion

I'm very proud to say that my book received The B.R.A.G. Medallion from indieBrag.comthis month (September), and indieBrag have supplied everything that is needed for updating the book cover, etc., and also help to promote the book on their website. Receiving The B.R.A.G. Medallion has been a humbling experience, considering the channels that a book has to go through in order to be awarded this honour. If you go to their website, you will be able to read the thorough and exacting process through which a book has to go before it is successful.

There it is then, my foray into the Indie Publishing realms. It's been such a journey, one I thought I wouldn't be able to achieve, and now I will go forward with my Work in Progress, with the confidence that I will also be able to publish that one on my own through the delights of CreateSpace andKDP.

Saturday, 30 August 2014

Bobbie Coelho is a writer of poems so profound that they cannot help but touch you in some way, and leave a lasting impression. Some will make you smile, maybe laugh a little, and some will make you think deeply on the subject. Some will even make you shed a tear, I am sure. Whichever one speaks to you the loudest, It is bound to stay with you for a very long time.

From the front matter

This is Bobbie Coelho’s second anthology of poetry and
follows on from her first, Finding the
Light, which is also published by SilverWood Books.

Bobbie Coelho was born near Norwich and now lives in
Hampshire with her husband, Steve. She has two stepsons and three
grandchildren. She has always enjoyed poetry, but after being diagnosed with
Parkinson’s disease in 2002, she was particularly compelled to write as a way
of putting things into perspective.

Bobbie strongly supports Parkinson’s UK therefore all
profits of this book will go towards research into Parkinson’s and the ongoing
search for a cure.

Bobbie Coelho, May
2014

I ‘know’ Bobbie from social media, and have ‘chatted’ with
her many times. Her fortitude in coping with her disease is admirable, and
through her poetry she gives the reader an insight into her life. Some of the
poems with grab your heart, and some of them will make you smile, for example, Ode to a Halibut.

I have chosen to review the poems that have touched me the
most, that have made me sit up and think, and have, to some extent placed me in
Bobbie’s shoes for a few moments.

The first poem, Reflecting
the Light, is one such poem. A short journey through a life until there is
some ‘knowing’ that it is alright to be one’s self, and not to bother what
other people think of you.

Reflecting the Light

In youth the way ahead is misty and obscure

Hard to navigate, even as you mature

Old age brings the joy of seeing clearer than before

A footpath revealed far beyond the open door

I’ve left the dark, travelled far

Sitting peacefully at last

Reflected in the light

Knowing never to fear

The coldest, darkest night.

To me this poem is an insight into how it feels to come
to terms with one’s illness, to make a positive out of a negative. It’s
admirable, and exceedingly profound.

Bobbie is taking us through the ages of ‘man’ if you
will, – youth, mature, old age; pointing out that it is a personal journey that
we travel. Whether we be able bodied, or have a disease such as Parkinson’s. Let
us, for a moment, look at the word ‘disease’ – let us break it down… dis –
ease. Dis the dictionary tells us is indicating a reversal, so in this case, a
reversal of good health, a reversal of ease, which the dictionary tells us is
freedom from discomfort, worry or anxiety. So when we put the two together we
have reversal of comfort, an illness, which in the case of Parkinson’s is an
incurable disease at the moment.

Bobbie assures the reader that she is, Sitting peacefully at last/ Reflected in the
light/ Knowing never to fear/ The coldest, darkest night. These four lines
sit in the heart of the reader, feeling the understanding of what it is to come
to terms with something that can only be lived
with and incurable.

The second poem that I would like to discuss is Me.

It starts with a line that I’m sure many of us have
discussed and wondered about, or maybe have never voiced it. The premise of
having been reborn many times.

It’s been said
we’re reborn many times

To learn all our
lessons through other minds

Bobbie has a unique way of making the reader confront their
thoughts, how they feel about something, and how they would deal with it. I would always choose to be me –
Choosing to be herself even with her illness, shows determination, fortitude,
and a zest for life that will not be extinguished.

The next poem that I would like to talk about is; Into the Light

A five stanza poem with a rhyme that carries the reader
through to the finish before you realise it; so you go back and read it again,
only this time you read it more slowly. The difference is that you ‘get it’ –
the message is there for all to see. It’s a journey through a life. Let me
quote the first verse:

Born on the last
day of summer’s reign

Only two minutes of
the day remained

Starting my life as
the autumn came

But very soon the
seasons changed

And the journey progresses through the other verses,
telling of just how a life was remembered, and finishes with:

Born at the end of
a summer’s reign

Into a world never
returning again

Strayed from my
path, but ended up right

Born as day came
from the night

Out of the dark and
into the light.

For me that demonstrates an acceptance of a life, of its
ills, its lows and its highs. The use of summer’s
reign has a feel of presiding over the renewing a life, making things grow. So
the opening line, Born on the last day of
summer’s reign, followed by, Only two
minutes of the day remained; would suggest to me that she felt that she was
born just in time, but in time for what, I wonder?

The third verse, I feel, is an epiphany of sorts;

It seems to me that
time doesn’t fly

Just trickles
slowly and I don’t know why

In the morning’s
mirror it’s youth I see

In the evening an
old face stares back at me

It is so tangible; the feeling of becoming less than one
was to begin with. I think we all feel like our younger selves, until we are
reminded of our status when we look in the mirror. It tells of a passage of
time, of not being able to hold onto it. When it’s gone, it’s gone.

The last two lines of the fourth verse are truly
profound, and, for me, they are the most powerful;

Sweet memories are
all that remain

But reminiscences
that will always stay

To me this is a summing up of a life, reminding the
reader that it is deeds and memories that we live by, and the future is
something that we never quite reach; it is always just one step away.

There are many wonderful and powerful poems in Bobbie
Coelho’s book, but for me Into the Light
is by far the most powerful. I have read it many times now, and each time it
conveys something different, but always it is poignant, touching the heart of the
reader, the writer having just bared her soul, and letting us all know just how
she feels.

This is a book to cherish, to read and reread many times
over. It’s an eclectic collection, a poem for every mood, I think. Some are
humorous, and some are of sadness and illness, and the overcoming of such.
Always, though, Bobbie Coelho fills her poems with honesty, with an openness
that will astound. It’s as though she has opened her heart, and filled the
pages of this wonderful poetry book for all to contemplate, and even enjoy.